Only the sound of a wheelchair rolling remained.
"Miss Aluo had the guts to shoot at me, now do you lack the courage to face me?" Seeing her fragile and trembling silhouette that seemed unable to withstand a single blow, Bo Fengheng's heart clenched violently.
The wound seemed to be torn open by something suddenly, causing him intense pain, even his breathing carried a strong scent of blood.
His deep eyes turned a blood-red.
He stared deathly at the figure that made him wish for death, wishing he could rush over and crush her...
The palms holding the wheelchair's armrest turned white from the bone.
Nobody knew how he had managed to endure.
Mu Yin slowly turned around, her tears flowing in torrents.
Aside from his eyes and handsome face being as cold and unfamiliar as she had imagined, filled with hatred, he wasn't as weak and disheveled as she had expected; instead, he looked radiant and spirited.
However, she knew, beneath that neat shirt was a mess of blood.
